


The Road To Tartarus (Is Paved With Ill Intent)

by KanuKoris



Series: The Bishop DeSoto, Long May He Reign [7]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Bishop Max, Board Ending, Breathplay, Darkest Timeline, Enemies to Lovers, Exhibitionism, F/M, Oral, Political Intrigue, Prison, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanuKoris/pseuds/KanuKoris
Summary: For attempting to assassinate the Chairman, Felix Millstone awaits execution in Tartarus, the only thing sparing his life is if Captain Hawthorne plays along with the Board. What the Bishop and the Board forgets... is Hawthorne plays by her own rules.
Relationships: The Captain/Maximillian DeSoto
Series: The Bishop DeSoto, Long May He Reign [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567744
Comments: 43
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

“Felix Millstone, you have been found guilty of conspiracy to first degree murder, sedition, high treason and the attempted disruption of the Halcyon Holding Corporations chain of title.”

Felix watched stoically from his box in the courtroom, hands cuffed together and chained to the Elite guard standing behind him. He had a hard, mutinous look on his face.

The Supreme Justice continued in a droning voice. “This proceeding is to determine the nature and length of your sentencing. I have here a written testimony from Chairman Charles Norman dePhillips Rockwell that he recommends you,” the Justice cleared his throat before reading off of an affidavit, “be disemboweled, stuffed full of Mock Apples, roasted on a spit, then fed to my mother’s teacup canid ‘Tulip’.”

Felix snorted and grumbled under his breath. The Supreme Justice leveled a withering look at him and needled, “What was that, Mr. Millstone? You had something to say?”

“ _Yeah_ , that I hope the Chairman’s cleaning up after his canid after I give it diarrhea.”

Hawthorne felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards and she had to bite back a laugh, despite feeling otherwise nerve-wracked and faint. She was seated beside the Bishop in the gallery box reserved for Board upper management, and though she scolded Felix internally for provoking the Justice, part of her was proud to see his defiance.

The Supreme Justice nodded at the Elite Guard, and Felix got a shock lance to his back and bit back a yelp of pain. Feeling he had been properly chastised, the Justice continued. “I also have here a recommendation from Adjutant Akande, that you be given a life imprisonment sentence with a parole hearing to review the terms of your sentence annually.”

Hawthorne’s eyebrows rose, feeling confused but hopeful. It sounded like there was a chance that Felix could be set free, though perhaps the odds were stacked against him. She glanced over to her side where the Bishop sat, but he had a stoic look on his face, displaying a stern piety that was to be expected from the head of the Scientific Order.

“Given your lack of remorse and that you continue to demonstrate dangerous, morally corrupted, anarchistic beliefs – I will adjust that sentence for a hearing to occur _every financial quarter_.”

Hawthorne felt confused, and she saw a similarly lost expression on Felix’s face. That sounded like a more generous sentence, but it was said with such venom that she thought it wasn’t a good sign.

The Justice continued, and the hammer dropped. “Every quarter you will present yourself to a judicial committee approved by the Adjutant and Chairman, and they will review your sentence to determine if you have earned the right to continue serving your life sentence, or if the more traditional sentencing for Sedition is warranted: _death by firing squad_.”

Hawthorne felt sick to her stomach. She saw Felix’s face grow even paler as the implications now became clear. He would rot behind bars in Tartarus, and every quarter they’d dangle his life in front of his eyes.

“Do you have any concluding statements you would like to make for the record, Mr. Millstone?”

Felix tried to put on a brave face and look nonchalant, though Hawthorne could tell he was fighting a tremble. “I do. Capitalism was a mistake, Chairman Rockwell can eat my shit, and the Rizzo’s Rangers were robbed of the Halcyon cup last year.”

There were outraged cries from the public gallery, which was stuffed to overflowing as people from all over the city wanted to see the sentencing of the notorious assassin, and the Supreme Justice barked at the Elite guard to escort Felix out of the courtroom.

Hawthorne found herself on her feet, trying to catch Felix’s eye as he was dragged out through the crowd. His eyes met hers, but there was a disgusted look on his face and moodily he looked away. Hawthorne felt a wave of bitter disappointment rise within her. She realized what it must have looked like to him.

Captain Hawthorne, the darling hero of Byzantium society, sitting beside Bishop DeSoto and the other Board elite… one of _them_.

***

Bishop DeSoto frowned and looked up from his book. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Captain.”

She brushed aside his doubts with a casual shrug, determined to get her way. “I do. There must be a way you can get me visitor rights.”

The Bishop gave up on his book and closed it fully, placing it top of an already over-stacked pile. “Hawthorne, you can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to be able to deliver whatever favor it is you want.”

“You got me an invite to Rockwell’s party, and look at how well that turned out. What harm could possibly go wrong from a visit? There’s maximum security. And bars, I’m assuming.”

He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and in a gentle, but warning tone, said, “I know it’s difficult. But Felix’s fate is secured, and perhaps you should leave him to it. You’ve done more than enough, and you do not need his gratitude.”

Irritably, she yanked her shoulder out of his grasp. “I don’t want to speak to him so he can _thank me_.”

The Bishop held up his hands in mock surrender, and she grated at his ‘oh-so-reasonable’ tone, which he liked to use when he felt morally superior to her. “Whatever guilt you feel is for you to deal with on your own. Felix is where the Architect has placed him, wherever that may be. There’s no fighting fate.”

“Oh, for _the love of_ —“ Hawthorne rose to her feet, her temper flaring so that she couldn’t even finish her sentence. She rounded on the Bishop, an accusatory finger jabbing the front of his vestments. “ _Fuck_ your Architect and the hot wind he passes that you all praise as gospel! It’s nothing but excuses. Pretty lies you can all tell yourselves as you get fat and feast in Byzantium while the rest of the colony starves. That it’s right, it’s just, because it’s _fate_ that you live off other people’s backs.”

A dark look swirled in the Bishop’s eyes as he caught her hand and pulled it away from him. The small, patient smile on his face was carved from ice and his voice had grown silky with unfurling anger. “That sounds dangerously like heresy, Captain Hawthorne.”

She didn’t care. “It’s true. It’s not the Architect holding Felix’s life in his hands. It’s Akande. It’s you… it’s me.”

She deflated a little with that admission. She could not deny her own shame while she condemned others. She felt his finger draw under her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up and meet his gaze.

“You’re confused and lost, and that causes you distress.” She saw his eyes slip down to her mouth, before he continued. “Confession and spiritual guidance _is_ meant to help with that. You’re already here. Would it be so bad to try?”

She considered him for a moment and then, without breaking eye contact, reached up and began to unbutton his vestments. He startled, a hand grasping hers as if to stop her, but she clucked her tongue disapprovingly at him. “I’m following your instruction, Bishop. A Law-denouncing heretic, in need of instruction.”

Her fingers made quick work of the line of buttons that ran down his torso, his vestments peeling open for her. He gave her a wary look, though she could tell there was a healthy dose of interest being held just at bay, and he murmured, “They are watching…”

Hawthorne sank to her knees and she heard the Bishop bite back a groan. She undid the last button, whispered, “let them see” and a wicked smirk curved onto her lips. One of his hands weaved through her hair, gripped tightly, and she let out a throaty chuckle.

If they were being monitored by the Board, and Hawthorne had no doubt that they were, she wanted the Adjutant see how quickly the Bishop’s resolve melted away under her touch.

***

Hawthorne’s heart leapt when the Tartarus guards brought Felix into the visiting station and sat him down in the chair. Felix had a bruise already blooming on his left cheek, which made her frown. He sat on the other side of a reinforced acrylic barrier so she could see him clearly, but couldn’t cuff him up the back of his head like she wanted.

“You couldn’t last a week in the clink without getting into a fight?”

Felix shrugged, petulantly refusing to meet her gaze. “He had it coming. Guard didn’t want to let me finish my desert. You don’t get between a man and a slice of Mock Apple pie.”

Hawthorne snorted. “Leastways they’re feeding you.”

“No thanks to you,” Felix muttered, and finally looked at her. His eyes were hard and resentful. “What are you doing here anyway, Cap?”

“Check on you. See you with my own two eyes. Law, Felix.” Hawthorne leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “You disappeared for years. I didn’t hear hide nor tail from you. Where have you been? What have you been doing? Especially that winds up with you trying to do some cold-blooded killing?”

“It’s not cold-blooded. It’s self-defense, a pre-emptive strike.” Felix’s eyes shone with a fiery light. “Rockwell’s going to freeze us and starve us to death unless we do something. We’re just choosing to go down swinging.”

Hawthorne tried to sound gentle, but she could hear the familiar strains of someone else’s words swaying Felix, and it annoyed her. “We? So who’s ‘we’ this time, Felix?”

He looked self-conscious, though still defiant. “We’re the Defenders of the Hope. Hope, you know, like the colonists. Like you were… once.”

“I understand the entendre, Felix.”

Hawthorne felt her temper flare and one of her eyebrows rose, as if daring Felix to continue. Wisely, he did not. She was struck by the sheer audacity of some clueless group of rebels to try and use the namesake of her colony, her _history_ , for their ill-conceived plans.

“You ever think, Felix, that they were just using you? Why did they send you alone? Why haven’t they come to help you once you got caught?”

Felix’s face flushed and he looked upset, Hawthorne suspected that had hit a nerve with him, but he felt too proud to admit that he may have not used his best judgment. He fired back, “You’re one to talk, Captain. At least the Defenders are trying to save hope – not sell it to the Board.”

“You have _no idea_ , Felix, what I’ve done or why.”

The cold steel in her voice spooked him and he lapsed into a moody silence. Hawthorne took a deep breath to compose herself. “For whatever it’s worth, Felix, it’s good to see you.”

She then looked up at Felix, an intense look in her eye, and chose her next words carefully. “SAM misses you, you know. He keeps cleaning the same spot in your room, where you used to keep your comic books. I had to chase him out of there the other day, he was about to use his acid wash on the damn spot.”

Felix’s gaze met hers, curious and questioning. He considered her for a long moment, and cautiously said, “Good thing... That would have burned a hole right through?”

Hawthorne nodded in agreement. “It would have.”

A buzzer alarm sounded, and Hawthorne looked up at the clock. Their allotted visiting time was over. A Tartarus guard came over to Felix and began preparing him to be moved back into the main prison. He got up and left without so much as a ‘goodbye’ or nod farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think even with a gun to his head, Felix would never turn his back on the Rizzo's Rangers and this is only good and right.


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Hawthorne sat at the bar of the Lost Hope, nursing a glass of Rum and Somethin’ because she wasn’t fixing to get drunk that night, and also because it was already her third glass. She was waiting, nervous, and it was making her drink too quickly.

She felt like she could finally breathe, being away from Byzantium, though she still exercised a certain amount of caution. There was still Board presence on Groundbreaker station, and her stock as a target had only risen with recent events. There was no telling whose eyes and ears had been bribed by the Adjutant.

The bartender got her attention and then slid a data card over to her. Hawthorne glanced at it and then immediately tucked it into her inner jacket pocket, trying to appear calm, though inwardly she wanted to shout with excitement. Ellie and her hired hacker had come through more quickly than she anticipated. They had just delivered a goldmine into her hands.

“Hey, Captain.”

Hawthorne’s head whipped around and she saw Parvati wave shyly to her, before sitting down on the adjacent stool. She was wearing a new jumpsuit and had her trademark grease stains and calluses covering her hands.

“What are you drinking, Parvati?”

“Whatever – so long as it’s not vodka. I like it just fine, but it doesn’t seem to agree with me.” She smiled a little nervously at Hawthorne, though was doing her best to keep things friendly. Hawthorne thought with a pang that she had missed the engineer.

“You’re looking well, Parvati. How’s the new radiator treating you?”

“Runs like a dream, Captain.” Parvati coughed a little bashfully. “I won’t lie, I didn’t think this was a good idea initially. But Junlei kicked me out of the workshop and told me to hustle on over. She said it was the least we could do to thank you, and she was right.”

Hawthorne passed her a drink and waved off any further explanation. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Parvati. And I am.”

They clinked their glasses together in ‘cheers’ and Hawthorne knocked the rest of her Rum and Somethin’ back in one shot. Before waiting for Parvati to finish, or even really get started, she slapped a decisive hand against her knee and stood up.

“Come on, show off your new radiator to me. Give me a tour for old time’s sake.”

“Alright, Captain,” Parvati said, a baffled but amused look on her face. She quickly downed her drink in a couple rushed swallows, and then led the Captain out of the bar and down to her realm in the Engineering bays.

When Junlei saw them approach, she wiped some engine grease off her hands with a work rag and came over. Parvati looked at the two Captains questioningly, picking up that their trip to the new radiator may not have been as spontaneous as Hawthorne had made it out to be.

“Junlei, what have you been conspiring?”

Hawthorne put a finger to her lips until they were all standing in front of the radiator, which she could tell instantly was superior to the last despite having no tinkering knowledge, but was still a noisy, clanking machine.

It was only until their voices were cloaked by the rumbling roar of the station, that Hawthorne pulled the data card from out of her jacket. And spoke freely.

***

Captain Hawthorne’s eyes glazed over absently as her nav-console went through the usual docking procedures as the Unreliable touched back down on Byzantium. It was a routine that she had done a hundred times before, and it blurred into white noise.

But this time she heard ADA’s voice chirp, “Captain, you have a request for entry onboard the ship.”

She frowned in confusion. “We’ve barely just docked.”

“The request is coming from Bishop DeSoto. He is waiting on the landing pad.”

Sure enough, moments later the hatch door to the Unreliable opened and she watched as the Bishop climbed inside. Her lips quirked into an unsure smirk. It had been years since she had seen him onboard the Unreliable, and she felt a familiar pang in her chest.

“I didn’t realize the Bishop made house calls,” she said, before glancing around their surroundings and amended, “ship calls.”

“Consider yourself very lucky,” he said playfully, before placing a hand on her waist and pulling her in. His eyes soft, he said, “I was worried about you.”

“I was only at Groundbreaker. It’s not really the lawless pit of criminality that some of the adverts here make it out to be.”

He smoothed a strand of hair away from her eyes, his hand lingering to trace along her jaw-line. He whispered, “You don’t have to be brave all of the time, Alex. I know this whole situation with Felix has upset you. I know it’s frightening and treacherous being here. I’m sorry…”

She leaned into his hand, suddenly feeling bone-weary and like the only succor that would soothe her came from his touch. “Sorry doesn’t change your mind. I know we’ll never see eye to eye.”

“No... but that doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing you in pain.”

Hawthorne placed her hands on his chest and then gently pushed him back. A challenge in her eyes. “Then make me feel better, _Maximillian_.”

He lifted her up into his arms and between fevered kisses, carried her over the threshold of her room before tossing her onto her bed. Onboard her ship, cocooned within her domain and away from the Board’s insidious gaze, she felt unbridled.

He undressed her, greedy eyes raking over her body, and he took off the gold chain pendant of his office and slipped it over her neck. The symbol of the OSI felt chilly cradled between her breasts, and he growled, “You’re a fucking vision, Hawthorne.”

He laid her down and knelt between her legs, and with the mouth of the Law he praised her until she was moaning his name through quivering lips. Like he could soothe all of her hurts with his silver tongue.

When she finally regained her voice, she panted, “You’re… overdressed.”

“Then undress me.”

They heard a ripping noise as she tore his vestments off him, but for once he did not protest. He was too busy trying to bury himself as deeply within her as he could. He wasn’t satisfied until her gasping laughs transformed to pleading moans. He tangled a hand around the gold chain and twisted it around her neck, like she loved to do to him, and tightened until her gently strangled purrs of pleasure hummed by his ears, and he fucked her until they were both spent and breathless.

“Tell me something, Max.” He looked up at her, his eyes trusting and sincere, and she traced a finger over the full curve of his lips. “How long am I trapped here?”

He smirked, playfully opening his arms as if to release her, though he knew she didn’t mean trapped in his embrace. “They haven’t taken away your ship.”

“And I’m free to travel to any of the Board’s other settlements… or Groundbreaker. So long as Junlei keeps the station neutral. But I’m on a leash now, aren’t I? I may as well have signed a fulltime employment contract with them the second I saved Rockwell’s life. I’ll always be monitored, minded, _managed_.” She laughed hollowly, her fingers twirled around the gold chain looped around her neck, as if to prove her point. “I became too valuable. Now I’m an asset they want in their control.”

He traced the letters that made up the OSI symbol, his fingertip skimming along gold and skin. He felt too shy to meet her eyes when he softly asked, “Would it be so terrible to make a place for yourself here? The brave Captain... the Bishop’s lover… overseeing a new age of innovation and exploration together. It makes for an attractive image, doesn’t it?”

But she didn’t need to say anything, from the wistful and resigned look on his face, she could tell that he already knew that wasn’t enough. Not for her. It could only be a passing fancy, nothing more.

She could have been scathing, but warm and nestled together skin-to-skin, she didn’t feel like being cruel. “Trust me, Max, but you wouldn’t want that either.”

“I know, I just—“ he stumbled over words made awkward by being peeled open so vulnerably in front of her, and sighed in frustration. “Be careful, Alex. _Please_. There’s only so much I can protect you.”

“It’s not very much,” she remarked a little coolly, though softened when she saw him wince. “Tell me, Max, why _have_ you tried to warn me? I feel like you’re fighting with yourself, preacher man. Don’t know whether to offer me up to the Adjutant or keep me out of her grasp.”

She saw his jaw stiffen and his eyes narrow as they edged into dangerous territory. Even though they were both naked and he had groaned out her secret name, he looked uneasy to be so exposed to her. “You know…”

“I don’t,” she insisted.

“It’s the part that wants you all to myself.” He rose up to his knees, cupped her face with his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips, her brow, and each of her cheeks, making a circle of protection. He pressed his forehead against hers and she sighed into him.

“Come with me, Max. Come adventuring with me again. We’ll run bounties and get into shoot outs, go rapt hunting, and if the Adjutant tries to hunt us down, I’ll put a bullet between her eyes for you.” She kissed him, urgent, hoping he could feel the promise on her lips. “Grab a shotgun and be the Vicar of my ship again.”

A frustrated noise left him and she saw that his eyes were screwed shut. He looked torn and like the struggle inside of him was going to tear him apart. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I’m leaving. Tonight. And I’m never coming back. I want to see you onboard my ship when I take off, Maximillian…”

He couldn’t look at her and there was a dark cloud on his face. She pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek, knowing that she had asked for more than he could give, but she wanted to inspire some sleepless nights in his future. She could be petty when she was disappointed.

He captured her lips in a kiss one last time, before he stood up and gathered his vestments. She watched as he redressed himself, eyes lingering over him as if she were trying to keep a mental record of what he looked like. Once his last button was done up, she lifted the gold chain of his office from around her neck to return it to him.

But he held up a hand to stop her, fingers trailing down the cool chain links and adjusted the pendant against her skin. He looked at her, with a molten heat in his eye that sent a shiver through her, and said, “Keep it for now. Give it back to me tonight.”

With that dark promise, he left her quarters with a sweep of his robes, her fingers tangled around the gold chain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to find a way to bring Parvati back :)
> 
> It looks like the weekends are a productive update time for me, so here we go! More intrigue and skullduggery!


	3. Chapter 3

“How are we looking, Parvati?”

Parvati knocked experimentally on the tunnel wall, and then gestured up ahead. “I’m thinking it’ll be the next section up, Captain.” She walked up ten more feet, knocked on the wall and was rewarded with a hollow sound. “This is it.”

Captain Hawthorne nodded and then looked to the giant cleaning mech rolling his way through the tunnel. “Alright, SAM. Do your thing.”

“This SAM unit is detecting…234 contaminants in the area!”

Parvati rapped her knuckles against the hollow section of the tunnel wall and whistled. “Over here, buddy. Use your ten times strength acid steeper solution, and the ‘exterminate’ clean cycle.”

“Request received.” SAM lumbered over to the tunnel and lifted up one of his arms. It began to spin like a drill and a high-powered jet of corrosive acid fired into the wall. Hawthorne and Parvati took a step back so they wouldn’t be hit with the acid spray.

“Did Junlei check in with you?” Hawthorne asked.

Parvati nodded. “Her Mardets have just gotten through the south entrance. She says they can already _hear_ Nyoka.”

Hawthorne’s lips twitched into a smirk. Now that was a sight she was disappointed to miss. Their assault on Tartarus was a multi-pronged operation and Nyoka had hands-down the riskiest, but arguably most entertaining part. She was running distraction so that Hawthorne and Parvati could infiltrate from the sewer systems, and largely it involved her being air-dropped into the middle of the prison yard with her heavy machine gun.

If a woman bellowing a war chant at the top of her lungs and firing plasma rounds as she fell from the sky wasn’t distracting enough, well then Hawthorne had severely underestimated the entertainment they provided in Tartarus.

Junlei and the Mardets were already fighting their way through the ground floor so they could team up and help extract Nyoka back to safety. Hopefully the attack was unexpected enough that Tartarus security wouldn’t be able to muster up much of a response and everyone could get out safely. By the time the dust settled, they wouldn’t even notice that a certain prisoner had escaped until it was too late.

With an acrid hiss, a six foot by six foot hole was carved into the tunnel wall. “Exterminate cycle concluded. Shall this SAM unit repeat the cycle?”

“That’s good for now, SAM.” Hawthorne pressed her foot against the tunnel wall and gave it an almighty shove. It took a few more kicks and Parvati pushing her shoulder against it, before it crumbled enough and fell through. Hawthorne desperately hoped that Felix had understood the message she had tried to insinuate to him when she had visited, otherwise she was going to find an upsetting melted pile of flesh and bones on his cell floor.

When he had first come onboard the Unreliable, she had found that he had hidden a secret stash of bits, tossball trading cards, and a few comics into the paneling of his room wall. It was a magpie-like tendency he had picked up from bouncing from place to place, and SAM had almost destroyed his precious collection by acid-washing the spot.

“Captain!”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Felix was fine, he had wisely wrapped himself in the one blanket prisoners were allotted to protect himself from the acid spray, and he dropped it to the floor. His eyes were wide, and he babbled excitedly, “It’s just like that prison escape from episode forty-three of _The Masked Marauder—“_

Parvati’s eyes widened excitedly. “Oh, that one where they trained a real raptid for the chase!”

Hawthorne waved at him urgently, “Gab about the serials later – _get a move on!_ ”

Hawthorne led the way and they ran down the tunnel, feet pounding dirt as they made their escape. She heard laughter and a loud, joyous whooping and glanced behind to see Felix beaming, pure glee on his face as he raced towards freedom.

***

Felix looked from the ship’s entry ramp and back to Hawthorne, frowning. “Why aren’t you coming with us?”

“I’ve got my own ride out of here. Going to make sure Junlei and Nyoka get off-planet before I go. In case they need back up.”

They had made their way to a spot in the wilderness, far from the city outskirts. A small passenger ship had landed secretly in the field, piloted by one of Junlei’s Mardets. Felix hesitated again, and Hawthorne added, “We’re going to meet up in Stellar Bay. Ellie’s already there waiting for us.”

“Captain,” he finally got out, struggling with what to say, “I’m sorry… I thought you, well—“

She clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Get out of here before they leave without you. I need my crew back in top form.”

He grinned and saluted her, “You got it, boss!” before jogging up the entry ramp. Hawthorne waited until the ship successfully took off and disappeared into the atmosphere. They were far away enough from Byzantium that the ship wasn’t going to alert the Board’s air space security, but she waited a few minutes more to be sure.

On her way back into the city, Nyoka hailed her on comm to give her the ‘all-clear’. “Just took off now, no one hurt ‘cept Mardet Cowboy over here got a little too enthusiastic and hit his fool head on a fucking post. Ears still ringing, dumbass?”

Hawthorne chuckled, relieved to hear Nyoka’s voice. “I’m sure he was just trying to dodge your hellfire. Heard you had fun.”

“You know it, Cap. Over and out.”

They had all made it and Hawthorne felt the iron bands squeezing her chest and gut ease up a little. She had been nauseous with worry that this harebrained scheme would end up with more of her crew in the clink, or worse. It was just up to her to sneak off of Byzantium now, and while it was risky going last, she had the best chance of being able to talk or bluff her way out. All of the good will she had earned with the Board had to come in useful.

Hawthorne snuck back into the city, taking a cautious approach to the docking bays where the Unreliable was parked. If she was being honest with herself, she had lingered for another reason. A mute hope. One she didn’t expect to see fulfilled, but she wore the Bishop’s gold chain underneath her shirt and jacket anyway.

She crept into the docking bays through a back entrance, avoiding the main security. Everything seemed calm in the bays, none of the guards seemed more on alert than usual, and she hoped word of the Tartarus prison break hadn’t reached here yet. She strode over to her landing bay and her heart leapt into her throat.

Max was waiting by her ship.

She strode over, a pleased smirk helplessly tugging onto her lips, and he looked up when he heard her approach. His eyes shone, glittering green, and she thought he looked rather pleased with himself.

“You have something of mine,” he said.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in. Hawthorne reached into her jacket and gently tugged on the chain, freeing it from its hiding place under her shirt. She placed it over his head, draping it along his neck and adjusted the pendant.

“So, you saw reason,” she remarked, hands smoothing the front of his vestments and splaying against his chest.

His voice was low and dark. He brought his face close, as if to kiss her, and murmured, “I did.”

Hawthorne heard the fall of footsteps all around her. The static hiss of armed shock lances. Shadows fell onto the floor.

She looked up into the Bishop’s eyes, and let out a mirthless laugh. Bitter. Incredulous. Her hands curled into fists, gripping the front of his robes and she hissed, “Of course.”

“Captain Hawthorne.”

Hawthorne bowed her head. She didn’t have to turn around to know the Adjutant was standing behind her.

Akande sounded pleased. “Turn around slowly. Raise your hands into the air. You are under arrest for orchestrating the unlawful release of Felix Millstone from custody. Not to mention several thousand bits worth of damage to the Tartarus facility.”

Hawthorne looked up at the Bishop, who had a dark and unyielding expression on his face, before turning around as ordered. She lifted her hands in surrender, and saw that she was completely circled by armed guards. Adjutant Akande had a mild, polite smile on her face, standing and waiting patiently.

“You don’t have proof,” Hawthorne tried, though she knew it didn’t matter.

The Adjutant smirked and merely said, “Actually, I do.”

The guards pulled her arms behind her back and cuffed her wrists together. A guard holding each of her arms, the Adjutant leading the procession, Captain Hawthorne was marched through the docking bays to the prisoner transport that was awaiting her.

She was pushed inside and a guard chained her handcuffs to a railing inside of the transport. They slammed the doors shut in her face. Through the bars she saw the Bishop, watching her from afar. She could not read the expression on his face, but she saw him playing with the pendant, until he disappeared completely from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Max! How could you?!
> 
> I wanted to get the updates out quickly for the weekend, and realized I've also left everyone on a most evil cliffhanger until the next installment, which should go up sometime later in the week. Sorry not sorry!
> 
> Up next, Captain Hawthorne has been betrayed and captured. Has the Bishop won? Will she be sent to the gallows? The series is swiftly coming to an end, we only have a couple more installments to go, so I'll catch you on the next!


End file.
